Dinner was a jovial affair as Kennedy's step-children Morgan and Benji were always entertaining. Spring had never asked why they had come to the ranch in search of help as it had been none of her business. All she knew was the kids were now healthy and happy, Ted and Kennedy were married, and now there was a baby on the way. Spring was wondering if the kids were aware of the upcoming addition to their family when Benji turned to her at dinner.

"Did Kennedy tell you about the baby?"

Spring chanced a glance at her sister who simply nodded. "Yes, she did." She hesitated. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah," Benji said, "because I won't be the youngest anymore."

Morgan rolled her eyes. "But that's not the real reason. Neither of us has ever been around a baby before and we're excited about that."

"I'm sure you'll make great older siblings," Chantale offered.

"You'll have lots of practice with Zephyra's baby," Kennedy said. "Now that you're old enough to babysit."

"Both of us," Benji asked, hope in his eyes.

"Of course," Ted said. "I suspect once Rafe and Zephyra get over the feeling of being a new parent they'll bring the baby over from time to time and they'll probably want some alone time with the adults."

"Cool," Benji said and Spring wondered what the legal age of babysitting was. She herself had never babysat since there had always been an older sibling in the house. She wondered if she would know how to cope with an infant. How hard could it possibly be?

"I was too close in age to babysit Torah," Kennedy offered, "but starting from when I was thirteen, I would watch Zephyra, Sunshine, Rainbow and, eventually Spring." She paused. "It was Rainbow who watched Autumn and Summer."

"The twins," Benji confided in Chantale. "Which is pretty cool – to have aunts who are twins."

"I can imagine," Chantale said. "For me, it was just my older sister and myself. She never babysat me because we had nannies and then housekeepers."

Morgan and Benji exchanged an odd and unreadable look. When Spring looked up at Kennedy, her sister gave a quick shake of the head, so she moved on. "How are you two adapting to school? Is the curriculum in a Canadian high school that much different that the American schools?"

Nodding, Morgan smiled. "I have a class in geography and the history is Canadian, but that's cool because our grandmother is Canadian. We're going up to meet her after Sunshine and Hawk's wedding."

The kids had never met their grandmother? Again, Kennedy gave Spring a quick shake of the head. Apparently, there were lots of landmines.

"You two will be at Sunshine and Hawk's wedding?"

The two teenagers nodded.

"It will be the first wedding we've ever gone to," Benji confided. "Aside from Dad and Kennedy's."

"And they'll be on their best behaviour," Ted assured Spring.

"Of that I have no doubt," Spring said, a smile playing on her lips. "You're good kids. We're lucky to have you as part of our family."

Both children preened under the praise.

As they neared the end of the meal, Morgan turned to Kennedy. "May I be excused? I have some math homework."

"Of course," Kennedy said. "Just put your plate in the dishwasher first."

"I'll go too," Benji said. "I'm don't have homework tonight, but I'm reading this book Sunshine found for me."

Spring watched the two children head upstairs to their separate rooms. She cocked her head at Kennedy. "They're over the worst of it," Kennedy said. "They're mostly healed."

"Thanks to Kennedy," Ted said.

"Group effort," Kennedy pointed out. "Couldn't have done it without Avery and you."

There was a story, Spring knew, but today wasn't the day.

"Any news on Pritchard," Ted asked.

"Nothing new," Spring said. "But I'm hoping to get a couple of interviews tomorrow for a story which is going to run the next paper."

Chantale's brow arched. "Anything you can share?"

Spring shook her head. Then she hesitated. "Who posted Colton's bail?"

She was able to see Chantale's discomfort immediately.

"Colton thought it was you," Spring said.

"That would be highly irregular," Chantale pointed out.

"But you posted Declan's bail," Spring persisted. "Wasn't that highly irregular?"

Chantale shrugged. "Probably. But this time it wasn't me."

"Will you tell me," Spring asked.

"I think that falls into privileged communication," Chantale said.

"And yet you haven't told Colton."

Chantale's smile was brief and rueful. "He doesn't need to know."

There was a story there, Spring knew. Maybe if she did some digging, she could find the answer she was looking for. Because if she could figure out who the Good Samaritan was, she might have another source of who might be supporting Colton. And then suddenly, it came to her.

"Your sister," Spring said. "Doc put up the bail."

Chantale was good, but she wasn't that good because, clearly, she hadn't expected Spring to piece it all together.

"I won't confirm or deny," Chantale said.

This time, it was Ted who snickered quietly.

Chantale shot him a glare.

Kennedy smiled. "It was very nice of your sister to do that. He and Seth are best friends, right?"

"Yes," Chantale admitted, "being married to Colton's best friend had a lot to do with it."

"But there's more," Kennedy said. "And, in the end, the reasons don't really matter."

Which piqued Spring's interest because she knew Doc had once been one of Kennedy's patients. Had she been a victim of some kind? Had Colton helped her as he had so many other women?

"This is so wrong," she said quietly.

"Which is why I'll be mounting a vigorous defence," Chantale said.

"I just hope it's not too late," Kennedy murmured.

"Your support is appreciated," Chantale said. "I know there must be a cost to you."

"There is," Ted said, "but my wife is set on this course and so we're standing behind her."

"Where's Rainbow tonight," Spring asked.

"She and Jeremy are having dinner over at Ellie and Darius' place. I heard Ellie's pregnancy is going well."

Spring grinned. "Has Sunshine made a prediction?"

"Actually," Kennedy said, "she and Darius want to be surprised and Sunshine is respectful of that."

Chantale smiled. "So if I want to know...?"

"She'll tell you," Ted assured her. "Sometimes it's a little disturbing how intrusive she can be without meaning to be, but you get used to it."

"I'm not sure I ever would," Chantale said. "I mean I love my sister, but I wouldn't want her to know everything about me."

"But she's able to tell us that Colton's innocent," Spring pointed out. "That had a lot of sway with a number of us."

"So did Autumn," Kennedy said. "She's the one who's best in a position to relate to how Colton behaved."

Spring was longing to tell Kennedy this wasn't the first time Belinda had said she'd been raped, but she couldn't. She had to get down to the bottom of this. She stood. "I've got a long day tomorrow," she said. "I'll just put these in the dishwasher."

Ted waved her off. "I'll do it."

Chantale stood as well. "We'll do it together in no time at all."

Kennedy didn't look pleased at her guests doing dishes, but she also knew Chantale and Spring didn't see themselves as guests. Especially Spring who was family. And, in no time, the dishes were done.

Spring and Chantale said their goodbyes and headed out. As they got to their cars, Spring turned to the lawyer. "Is there any chance?"

"Of course," Chantale said. "But this isn't going to be easy. He admits he slept with her, which lends some credibility to her story."

"But sex and rape are two different things."

"You don't have to tell me that," Chantale said. "Which is why I'm going to defend him. I don't believe him capable of this."

"How does Declan feel?"

Chantale gave a rueful smile, illuminated by the side light on the ranch. "He was never Colton's fan, but he would never wish the man harm. Declan's a good guy and he supports me in my work. Is he worried about me? Of course."

"Well, with good reason," Spring said. "You were shot."

"And I've defended lots of other people accused of doing despicable things and have been just fine."

"But you've stepped up security, right?"

Chantale nodded. "Our place is pretty safe, what with the alarms, but we've added a couple of drive-by runs by our security company at the office, since it was firebombed the last time. So far, there haven't been any threats. If there are, we'll rethink things."

"You're awfully brave," Spring said.

"No, just determined," Chantale said. "I've been doing this for almost ten years now and I love my job."

Spring laughed. "I know the expression that even a guilty man deserves representation, but surely you've turned down clients."

"A pedophile with two young children making accusations. The police had a really good case and the guy just turned my stomach. I referred him and there was a plea bargain, but he's still doing a long stretch."

"But not long enough," Spring surmised.

"It's never long enough with guys like that because there is no hope of rehabilitation," Chantale said. "And that's if it's even offered at all." She glanced at her watch. "It's been a long day and I still have a ton of work to do before Declan comes home."

"And after he comes home," Spring said, with a slightly lascivious grin.

"Oh, I can think of a thing or two we might do and they won't involve grading papers or talking about ex-boyfriends."

"Glad to hear it," Spring said. "Say hi to the Professor Perfect for me."

"That's right," Chantale said, "I'd forgotten you'd taken a few of his classes."

"He was the one who encouraged me to go into journalism," Spring said. "He liked my writing, but said I was better with fact than interpretation. I didn't want to hear what the critics thought of something, I wanted to report on how it was written or why or where."

Chantale palmed her keys. "Have you ever told him that?"

Spring considered. "No, I don't think so. I just thought he had figured it out for himself, given I write for the local paper."

"Tell him," Chantale urged. "It never hurts to hear from someone whose life took a different path because you were there. I've had a couple of clients who let me know I influenced them to improve their lives and make up for their crimes. It's not all guilty people without consciences. Sometimes people have bad things happen to them and they don't choose a good path. Sometimes I can help them fix things."

"I still don't think I could do what you do," Spring said.

"Few people can," Chantale assured her. "Keep in touch, okay?"

Spring nodded then watched as Chantale got into her car and pulled away. She didn't like what she was going to do, but she had no choice.

Spring waited until nine o'clock before she knocked on Belinda Oliphant's door. She waited and waited, knowing in her gut that Belinda was home. At the ten minute mark, she was about to give up when the door opened. Spring barely recognized the woman behind the screen door.

Belinda's hair was the classic dirty blonde, neither blonde nor brown, just some perverse combination of the two. Her brown eyes were dull and the petite woman had her arms wrapped around her waist. She was frowning.

"What are you doing here?"

Spring endeavoured to give her best smile. "I just wanted to see how you're doing. I haven't seen you for a long time."

"That my fault," Belinda asked, her tone laced with sarcasm. "I'm out just about every night."

At the 14th Avenue Pub or The Grand, Spring had heard. Or The Springs if Belinda managed to get a ride to the pub at the edge of town. The one right next to the RCMP detachment which Spring had always found ironic. She'd never known which had been built first – the combination liquor store/pub or the cop shop. Maybe they had been built at the same time.

Instead of commenting, Spring asked, "may I come in?"

Belinda gave her a long level look. "Suit yourself," she said. "I don't really give a shit."

She stepped back to let Spring enter the apartment. The smell of yeast and beer was almost overwhelming and, at a quick glance, Spring counted about two dozen bottles.

"I had a party," Belinda said, dropping to the couch. "Party of one," she snickered.

Spring sat gingerly on a chair which had definitely seen better days.

"I was sorry to hear about your mom," she said. "It was cancer, right?"

Belinda nodded, eyeing her warily. "Yeah, it was throat cancer. They said it was because she smoked." Then, right in front of Spring, Belinda pulled out a joint and lit it. "So I only smoke dope."

"Some dope has carcinogenic properties," Spring said, then realized she'd made a strategic mistake.

"You come here to hassle me?" Belinda took a long drag. "Come to it, why are you here?"

Spring considered lying, but found no point. If she was going to be booted, then so be it. "I'm here as a friend, Belinda. I'm also a reporter, as you may or may not know, but today I'm here as a friend."

"You weren't never my friend before," she pointed out. "So why now?"

"Because I think you're all alone," Spring said, "and so I'm worried about you."

Belinda's eyes narrowed. "What have you heard?"

What had she heard? Rumours, innuendoes? A whisper here and a gossip there. Again, Spring chose to be honest. "I've heard you've had a rough time since your mom died. I've heard you're frequenting a couple of the bars."

"Yeah, maybe," Belinda agreed. "But what's it to you?"

"I'm worried about you," Spring said, which wasn't a lie. "That much alcohol can't be good for you."

"Worried my liver might give out," Belinda asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Maybe I would be doing everyone a favour."

Spring felt a lick of fear. "Are you...are you suicidal?"

"Would it matter if I was?" Belinda took another long drag on the joint. "Don't figure anyone would notice if I weren't here no more."

"You're wrong about that," Spring said, desperation clawing at her. "There are people who care. I'm sorry I haven't been here for you, but we can change that. Maybe we can get together some time and, you know, hang out."

Belinda gave her another long level look. "You shittin' me? Why would a goody-two shoes like you go out with a woman like me?"

"Because I'm not a goody-two shoes," Spring replied. "And because I genuinely care about you. I...I, well, maybe I could get you to see someone."

"Like a date?"

Spring cringed inwardly. "I was thinking more like a counsellor."

"Because I drink and smoke pot? You sayin' I'm an addict?"

"I would say I'm worried about you," Spring said. "I would say there are better ways to cope with grief."

"Ain't you sister a shrink or something like that?"

"A psychologist," Spring corrected gently. "Would you be willing to talk to her? You could come out to the ranch or she could come here."

"I don't need no help," Belinda said. "I'm doing just fine on my own."

The smell of cannabis was now permeating the room and mixed with the beer smell, Spring felt her stomach lurch. She pulled out her wallet and selected two cards. She stood and moved towards the coffee table. "One of these is mine. You can call me anytime. The other belongs to my sister. You can call her anytime as well."

"You goin' so soon?"

"Did you want me to stay?"

Belinda hesitated. "I just don't get a lot of people comin' round, ya know?"

Spring eased herself back into the chair, reminding herself she could stomach a little pot smoke. She'd even done a joint or two over the years. "I'll stay," she said. Then she figured she might as well go for it. "I wrote an article the other day."

"Didn't read it," Belinda said and Spring wasn't surprised.

"Well, it was about a Mission City RCMP Corporal whose had been accused of rape."

Belinda was off of her sofa with amazing speed and advancing towards Spring. "Get the fuck out of here, you hear me? Get out now or I'll rearrange your fucking face."

Spring needed no further invitation, she was out the door as fast as her feet could take her.

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